


Paint It Black

by Hagne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Magic, F/M, Strong Female Characters, Time Travel, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagne/pseuds/Hagne
Summary: If theirs had been a fair world, then, many things would have gone differently, in the end.Little kids would not have to fight, pretending to be heroes instead of scared teens,  falling to the ground with a thud and nothing more.Mothers would not have to cry, clinging to the battered corpses of their children while the fallen darkness swallowed their piercing screams.And someone, somewhere,somehow, would have raised to protect, shield, and save, those little heroes.It would have been so, if theirs had been a fair world, but since it was not, and no one had come to their aid, bodies had fallen, mothers were still screaming until she was the only one who had been left standing, in the end.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

\- Winky is coming too.

The voice was small, brittle like a crystal ball on the verge of falling off from the edge of the table, but even before it could crash on the floor, shattering to the ground with a shrilling scream, wounded fingers reached out, collecting gently in the bruised palm a pained face the house-elf buried in the bloodied sweater, hiding her battered form in the reassuring shadow of the young woman who was sitting on the floor, every inch of skin covered in old scars and fresh cuts that kept on bleeding to the floor with a sickening ticking that followed the slow turning of the time-turner clutched in her other hand.

Hurried steps echoed in the hallways beyond the closed door of the Great Hall, hissing voices that carried curses and words she already knew by heart, words that, with time, had become hollow sounds without meaning, without importance, not where she was going to go.

Her wand laid on the ruined fabric of her ripped skirt, to the side, her eyes fixed on the floor where, with every step they made, with every breath they took, the runes she had carved in the stone with the tip of her wand dipped in her blood was beginning to throb like the beating of a bleeding heart.

The floor quivered under the surge of magic that made windows shake and doors croak, the crackling of a faraway fire a sound her ears were glad to hear, while the air loaded with the thundering voices she could hear beyond the door that a spell blasted in a burst of splinters of wood, yet, she did not raise her head.

She already knew who was pointing at her their wands.

She already knew who was marching towards her with the word _mudblood_ chewed between gritted teeth.

And she did not care.

_\- Cruciatus!_

The curse flashed in the dark hall like a thunder ready to strike and burn a tree, bouncing on a barrier the young witch had silently cast while her eyes kept on focusing on the runes that had begun to burn as they were supposed to burn, _as she had wanted them to burn_ , flashing on the ground as if the floors had been clawed by a beast with bloodied talons.

When August Rookwood crossed the aisle that separated him from the young witch, a dark chuckled echoed in the hall while new curses thundered in the air and death eaters surrounded the small form that still ignored their advance, their wands pointed at her.

\- Time to reach your friends underground, mudblood.

The necklace of butterbeer caps that laid right above her heart followed the gentle rising and falling of her chest as Hermione Granger tilted her head to the side to follow the scared twitching of the house-elf in her arms who was trying to escape the cruel stares sinking her small body against her chest, gripping the sweater between her fragile little fingers to keep them grounded, to keep them together, while the magic began to crackle in the air that, slowly, was taking a strange burning smell.

As if something was beginning to burn.

As the flames had begun to reach out.

She let Winky crawling in her chest, just as she let the dark wizards advance.

Just a little closer.

_Just a little more._

Everything would have ended soon, after all.

She could already feel her body fade, she could already see the world shaking around her.

Yes. Rookwood was right.

It had come her time too, only, not in the way he hoped.

The awful smell of burning flesh preceded the screams that followed the roar of the ground as flames erupted from the magic runes in the form of beasts of fire, monsters neither of them was able to fight.

Fiendfyre was a curse dangerous to cast, dark magic it was not wise to use nor to mix, but Hermione did not fear the flames, _she did not want anything of what surrounder her to survive._

Hogwarts was burning, and she was thankful for that.

The fire could purify them all.

All the sins. All the deaths. All the body of the friends she had buried in the ground, close to the Whomping Willow.

Ashes began to sail in the wind with the roaring of the flames while even her body began to fade, to crumble in small grains of sand the time-turner in her hand was sucking in a whirlpool of magic and blood.

An angry snarl and the sound of breaking bones brought her eyes up, framing the melting face of a wizard who, despite the crumpling of his flesh kept on baring his teeth at her, on hissing words that began to get tangled and to get lost in a swirl of sounds Hermione listened to with a heavy heart.

The clattering of forks.

The lively whisperings of excited teens.

_The sound of home._

When her flesh ceased to fade, when the shaky corners returned to frame the world, her eyes did not leave the burning man who crumbled in front of her in a mass of ashes she blew away from her face with a weak puff of air, blinking through the blood that soaked her hair to see the sea of faces she did not recognize, but it did not matter.

Because she recognized the warmth of the hall, the gentle cold of the floor, the mild weight of a gaze Hermione Granger tried to meet despite the pain, despite the broken state of her mind, turning just enough to search for the man she had hoped to meet once again.

Even if in a different time. Even if in a different world. Even if as a different man.

But alive.

\- Professor Dumbledore.

Her broken words echoed in the hall like the haunting call of a ghost, but there was a smile on her lips, there was triumph in her eyes, and when she fell to the floor with a thud and a trembling elf in her arms who was crying her name with fear, Hermione Granger could almost hear Harry's proud voice echoing in her ears, lulling a sleep she welcomed with open arms and the awareness to have succeeded, in the end.

_You are brilliant Hermione. Truly brilliant._


	2. Chapter 2

The screams were deafening, sharp splinters of glass thrown in the air with the clear intent to cut the skin, to sink in the flesh, reaching and smashing the bones beneath the pink layer of dainty tendons, but when Madam Pomfrey resurfaced from beyond the plain, white screen that surrounded one of the two occupied bed of the infirmary, not a curl was out of place from beneath the immaculate cap. No trickle of blood was rolling down her cheek. Only the deep frown on her face and the irritate glint in her usually gentle eyes was the outcome of her disagreement with the shrilling house-elf.

\- She did not let me touch the girl.

_\- Winky will take care of her Mistress! No one can touch the Mistress! No one! No one! Only Winky!_

The wrinkles on the nurse's brow deepened further when the house-elf returned to agitate the air with the shattering sound of glass in her voice, but when Winky, in a fit of rage for the attempt of the witch to get close to her charge began to throw obscenity and threat so cruel to make the old witch shudder a little, a gentle hand reached her trembling shoulder, bringing the widened eyes of the witch on the peaceful face of the Headmaster.

\- Leave them be, Poppy.

\- But-

\- The young lady should be fine for now, why don't you go to assist young Lupin?

Irritation flashed in her eyes while her pale lips trembled a little in her attempt to reply, to make him understand that in the infirmary _she_ was the only one with a say, but the rustling of sheets on the other side of the room made the old witch pull in a tight line her lips before nodding curtly, leaving the Headmaster to take care of the problem at hand.

Albus Dumbledore went around the screen with the caution of someone who wanted to respect the rest of a wounded child, but it was wariness what made his steps careful and his moves slow, calibrated, welcoming, yet, when his eyes found the pale young woman on the bed, a burst of magic attracted his gaze on the house-elf who had jumped in front of his eyes with a snarl to block the view of the bandaged witch behind her back.

\- Only Winky will take care of Mistress. _No one else._

Silence followed the screechy scream of the elf, her ears stiff to the side of her small, pointed head while the soft fabric of her dress crumpled under the angry stirring of the arms Winky crossed on her small chest to show her intent on not letting him come closer.

A singular flash of silver on her wrist caught Dumbledore's eyes when the elf raised her chin in challenge in seeing him advance, attention the wizard brought back on the white bed and the pale, thin, bandaged arm at the end of which he could see the flash of silver of the same bracelet the elf was wearing proudly, a soft light to replace the sharpness in the eyes he focused again on the elf when she began to hiss at him in fury.

\- It seems your Mistress cares about you.

\- Mistress is Winky's only friend.

\- Friend?

A soft light smoothed the edgy corners of the huge, brown eyes the elf was pointing at him, but it was gone even before Dumbledore could make sure of that, replaced by a grudge so deep that, for a moment, the wizard imagined the little, bony fingers sunk in the tender flesh of his throat.

\- Mistress is, but wizards are not. They did bad things to Winky and Winky's friend.

A swift glance to the bandages that covered what skin the soft, cotton nightgown did not hide explained without her saying what the cruel wizards the elf was talking about had done to her and the young woman.

Even if the rich, brown curls had not hidden in the shadow of their locks the graceful features of the young witch, the bandage that embraced half of her face, swirling around her neck like the hands of a ghost that was trying to clutch how much skin as he could in his clasp made difficult for him to find familiarity, but her age was not so hard to guess.

\- Why were you attacked by wizards?

The question had been made in a kind, low voice that welcomed angry words and cruel hisses, but what left the thin lips of the elf was a hollow sound that echoed in the air like the deep, out of tune hit of a broken drum.

\- We are at war.

One sentence to explain it whole.

Winky did not deign the old wizard of other words or other angry hisses, returning to fuss on the young witch she tucked in the bed with gentle fingers, bringing the heavy blanket up to her chin, so to shield her from the searching eyes of the man she could hear breathing deeply behind her back, as if to collect himself before returning to speak.

\- You are safe here.

\- We know.

A heartbeat passed between Winky's curt sentence and Dumbledore's silence, before words returned to fill the air, air that, for an instant, seemed made of ice.

\- Do you?

\- He said that we would have been safe here.

\- He?

There was a hard flexion in the wizard's voice, suspicion in the dark corners of his eyes, but the elf did not lose a beat, adjusting gently a wild curl behind the young witch's ear with a soothing mumbling of her voice.

\- Mistress's Headmaster.

The wizard did not expect something like that, Winky could tell it by the breath the wizard failed to recover for a while before exhaling deeply, a dark edge in his voice.

\- And who is he?

\- Koldovstoretz's Headmaster.

Again, silence returned to fill the pause, but this time, the wizard took more time before returning to speak.

\- Is he aware of your whereabouts?

\- He is not, but he will, if you tell him where we are.

Another curt sentence, a clipped voice, then, a strangled breath preceded a soft confession given between small sobs and trembling words.

\- But not all did make it.

\- Weren't you the only ones?

Winky turned just to throw a flat look to the cautious face of the wizard before returning to fix the blanket, ironing with her fingers invisible wrinkles on the bed.

\- To survive, we were. But to escape, we were not.

\- From who were you escaping?

\- The masked men.

A harsh intake of breath made Winky aware that the annoying old witch was listening too, but it was better that way.

More people knew, more people would have believed in it.

The wizard did not ask, he did not inquire, but Winky could feel it pushing in her mind, a ghostly hand that was trying to rummage in her mind, in her memories, and memories she showed him, because there was truth, in what she was telling him.

Yes, Mistress had been right to be wary of him.

He was cunning. He was clever, but not like her Mistress.

Her mistress was, after all, the most clever of them all.

So she let him see, because deaths were always deaths, even if of a different time, of a different world.

\- I am sorry for your loss.

There was true empathy in the wizard's gentle voice, there was kindness, and Winky knew that he had believed her tale, that he was still wary, but less edgy, less sharp.

Winky was thankful for that.

It would not have been fair, for her Mistress, to show him the corpses of her own parents forsaken in a pool of their own blood.

It would have hurt very much, even if it was in the past, even if it had been a long time ago, but it would have still hurt, and her Mistress had always been the one to suffer more, between all of them, and it was just in the web of truths and lies she was weaving that Winky confessed what she had always thought, deep inside her little chest.

\- Mistress is a strong witch. Very brave. Very kind – she whispered to herself, mindful to raise her voice to make all them hear what she had to say, what the world forgot too easily, too often – she too thinks like Winky that true magic is not good or bad, that it was what humans do with it, what corrupts it.

A deep breath allowed Winky to swallow the tears in her throat, freeing her mouth from the taste of despair, of rage, because, despite it all, it was still unfair, it still hurt. It would have always hurt too much.

\- Blood does not matter. It never matters. It... _it was never Mistress's fault_ – and there, with her fingers tightened around the arm she knew was hard to watch even for her Mistress, it was there that her voice broke, leaving Winky with a stuffed chest she clawed and released, tearing the dress her Mistress had sewn for her with desperate sobs.

\- Mistress's parents were kind, so kind, it is unfair! It is bad! It is wrong! Mistress did not deserve it, even when they thought she did, for her blood. Even when they said that it was what a _mudblood_ deserved.

Winky spat the word like a curse, clutching at her chest as if she wanted to tear her heart out from her chest to make them see, to see how painful it was for her to breathe, how painful it was for her to repeat what the world had begun to chant beyond her back, haunting her Mistress with curses she had averted along with her gaze.

Because her Mistress had never had the time to be sorry for herself, to sew her wounds, to clean her blood, not when she had had people to protect, and shield to raise, and door to seal, and deaths to prevent.

No. Her Mistress did not deserve any of that, but that would have changed too.

They had come back for that.

To change the world.

The past.

\- I will inform your Headmaster about your whereabouts, in the meantime, I wish for both of you to rest.

Winky raised from the sheets soaked with her tears the pained face she, however, did not turn at the wizard's words, not if she did not want to show the way her features had recomposed themselves while tears kept on rolling down her cheeks.

\- Winky is very thankful for that.

The soft rustling of robes followed the silent retreat of the wizard, steps the Headmaster kept slow and calibrated to give himself the time to collect his thoughts, his face a mask of wax that nothing gave away, only the dark shadow descended in his eyes was the proof that, despite it all, despite the things he knew, despite the things he saw, there were still things able to hit him where it hurt.

A soft sobbing made his hand froze in the air, his fingers a weak brush on the knob he failed to grasp when Albus turned his face towards the narrow bed and the crouched form that made his brow drop in concern.

\- Poppy.

The call was not meant to harm, to hurt, but Madam Pomfrey stilled as if Dumbledore's quiet whisper had stricken her to the core, breaking some kind of balance that left the old witch with her shoulder sagged and a quiet crying from which the Headmaster looked away, softening the hard line of his eyes when he saw the clawed hands on the sheets Remus Lupin seemed on the verge to tear.

\- Mister Lupin.

\- It is unfair.

It had been a growl, a hiss between gritted teeth, but Dumbledore did not reproach him for it, for showing the trail of a transformation that seemed to come to light the more angered he become, the more hurt he felt, while silent tears gathered in the corner of his eyes and deep sorrow shadowed the glinting surface of the glasses Dumbledore made sliding off from his nose, so to hide the sorrow that had hardened his eyes while the shadow of the aisle welcomed his form and the only whisper he allowed himself to release.

\- It is war.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

\- This way.

The boots returned to move, shifting the weight of the body towards the dark aisle the tall wizard had already taken, bringing the towering man to follow the rustling of blue robes on the floor before his eyes caught the gentle swaying of the torch's flames where he let his gaze wander.

\- I apologize for the sudden request.

An eerie silence followed the apology Dumbledore did not try to repeat a second time, not when the awareness that no answer would have followed made his steps faster and his eyes darker.

\- Here.

The wizard to his back did not wait for him to open the door, turning the knob with a curt move of his gloved fingers while the heels of his boots echoed in the infirmary like the clapping of hands, a sound towards which Madam Pomfrey turned a small smile that froze on her face when she saw the cold green eyes of a man she did not know.

\- What-

\- _Where?_

The harsh bark made Remus Lupin retreat a little under the warmth of the blanket while Madam Pomfrey shielded him with her back, her hand on her wand and a deep frown on her face before Dumbledore could reemerge from the darkness of the door, pointing his finger towards the screen.

\- This way.

\- Where...

\- It is alright Poppy, the Headmaster had come to see his student.

The anger that had sprayed her cheeks of red was soon replaced by the concern for the brisk pace with which the tall man reached the screen, but even before the witch could follow the intimidating man to make him behave in her infirmary, Dumbledore had already reached the wizard, glancing away from the sudden frown on his brow when he heard the quiet sound of turning pages in front of him.

\- You are awake.

The statement stilled the delicate, bandaged fingers on the edge of the page she was going to turn while a dark curtain of brown curls followed the gentle movement of an identical bandaged neck, showing the soft line of a small chin, the graceful outline of pretty features concealed beneath the white, immaculate bandage, and deep eyes on which Dumbledore's gaze stalled.

Thick, long lashes shadowed the dark irises that were studying his face slowly, rustling on his features like the feathers of black crow's wings before they turned to shade the pale, tight lips the wizard was beginning to part so to speak.

**\- *How is Nadja?**

Whatever the wizard was going to say, whatever the wizard was going to do, it was enough a soft voice hardened by the harsh language in which she began to speak to quieten the turmoil that was shaking his eyes and stiffening his pose, leaving the wizard colder and number than how he was in the beginning.

\- Leave.

Despite the dangerous undertone in his voice, despite the stiff line of the broad shoulders clothed in a warm, bearskin, Dumbledore seemed unfazed by the hostile stance of his colleague, something for which he straightened his pose in response.

\- It's okay professor.

When those eyes returned to look at her, when Dumbledore's gaze returned to fall on her face, Hermione felt a fleet stab of pain sinking in her chest before a smile broke the hard line of her lips and her body relaxed against the sheets to show the truth behind her words.

\- It's okay.

Hermione knew well enough how frail and small she had to seem covered as she was in bandages from head to toes, but she had seen worse, and Nikolai Ivanov was someone she was not scared to face.

She was already prepared to face him.

She knew already the right words to say, the right things to do to make him behave as she wanted for him to behave, because nothing in her life had been a concatenation of fortuity to take advantage of, events she had to change and mix and turn to reach her goal, to come out winner, in the end.

No. Fortuity had always been something she had refused to learn, something she had always refused to consider.

She did not take chances, she made them.

She did not try things, she revised them.

She had already known where and when she was going to go. She had already known what she was going to do.

She knew already what the outcome would have been, in the end.

Because she had studied it, she had watched it unrolling in front of her in huge, bold words on a parchment her finger was already following without stuttering, without smearing the ink, because she had already done it in her mind, many and many times before.

She had read that story again, and again, and again, until she knew it by heart.

So when Dumbledore left them, when the silencing charm made her skin tingle and the sheets stiffen above her body, the curse Nikolai Ivanov, Headmaster of Koldovstoretz, threw at her found nothing to hit, no skin to tear, no blood to spill, only an annoyed twitch in her cheek before the magic crackled around her small form, followed by the screeching of the chair on which the wizard was forced to sit, a bewildered gaze on his pale face.

**\- We can make it easy, or we can make it hard, Mister Ivanov. I am prepared for both cases.**

A growl made the wizard's lips curl above his teeth like the peeling of a fruit, and when Hermione saw the canines, when she saw his eyes splitting like rifting of a blade, surprise wasn't something Ivanov found on her face, a lack of amazement that made the wizard sat straighter on the chair, looking at her with a wary look.

**\- What are you?**

Even before Hermione could let her lips taking a disapproving line, the crack in the air and the following thud of the pillow Winky had just thrown against the wizard prevented her to show her disappointment or to say something on the matter.

**\- Rude man will not say rude words to Mistress! _Rude man should shut the fuck up!_**

A giggle escaped the sealed line of her lips when Winky's outraged stance and swear words made the wizard arching an eyebrow in amusement, even if she could still see the hard line of his jaw, but she had his attention, and, at the end of their conversation, Hermione knew that she would have had his collaboration too.

**\- Strange creature you have there.**

**\- An elf is no more strange than a Veela.**

When Hermione saw him stiffen, she knew that once again she had gained his attention, his ears, while Winky wrapped her frail limbs around her waist, hissing towards the wizard and mumbling curse while eyeing the bottle of firewhisky she had brought with her after sensing the dangerous aura of the man close to her Mistress.

Her Mistress did not approve her habit, but drinking was something the elf failed to stop, she drank less, but she still drank, she needed it, she needed to feel the fire of the alcohol burning her throat, she needed the fire to bring all the pain and the bad memories to ashes, she needed the fire to stay awake, so to shield her Mistress and never leaving alone, even more now, when sleeping was a luxury her Mistress could not allow herself, not if she did not want to fade again, turning in sand that space and time would have collected from where she did not belong, where her Mistress had decided to be, letting her wander in its hourglass of eternity in a twirl of magic and energy.

No. No sleeping for her Mistress. So no rest for her too.

Her Mistress had sacrificed her existence to do what she must, and Winky too would have done the same.

**\- I will not ask things I already know and you will not make questions I will not answer to. What I seek is not a friend or a confident or an ally, Mister Ivanov. Intruding in what is your matter is not an interest of mine.**

**\- And what do you seek, _whore?_**

Hermione let the taunt slip away easily, leaving the book on her sheets while one arm ran to secure Winky against her side, using her free hand to move away from her face some of her curls, smiling for his foolish attempt to scare her, to make her desist.

She had heard worse, they had called her with worse names.

He did not intimidate her. She did not fear him. She did not fear anything anymore.

But she still could use some help, and help would have been what she would have asked him, and, if he refused to give it to her, if he refused to do as she told, then, she would have forced him to abide by what she asked.

She knew how to do it.

She had already done it before.

**\- What I seek, Mister Ivanov, is a credible background story to give to whoever will ask about me.**

A flat look was all that the wizard conceded her, stroking the blonde moustache with fake interest, but she had already known how he would have answered to her request, she had already seen it in the many possibilities she had studied before, yet, she had hoped for something different, she had hoped, until the very end, to not have to resort to a threat.

But if a threat was what he required to keep the silence, then a threat would have been what she would have given him, and it would not have been pretty.

It never was.

**\- Many books that I have read say that when a Veela loses his mate, he would follow her in death for the grief, yet, there were no proofs of that, such a pity, really. Aren't you curious like me, Mister Ivanov, to know if it is the truth or a silly fantasy?**

The chair creaked under the weight of the body that, despite the warning sounds, kept on pushing and pushing on the seat with so much force to make the wooden legs screaming in rebellion, but the more he tried to struggle, the more the wizard tried to rebel to her magic, the more he sunk in the floor, on the chair.

There they were.

The angry eyes.

The hissed curses.

The frustration moves of a powerless man, a powerless wizard.

When Hermione took back the book in her hand, when she let her eyes wander on the words, she heard the heaving breathing and the creaking sound that followed the straightening of a back that Nikolai Ivanov did not return to raise, his muscles still tingly for the magic that had tried to take him apart before the wizard let the eyelids cover the rage in his eyes and his lips returned to curl in a snarl that, despite the dangerous and unsettling sound, gave her the answer she had wanted to hear from the beginning.

**\- I am listening.**

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Nikolai Ivanov resurfaced from behind the screen, the small shadow that followed him was a change that made Madame Pomfrey raising from her chair with a frown, a rebuke ready on her tongue before her eyes caught the sharp lines of the ears Winky straightened with a hiss when she met the irritated gaze of the old witch, strengthening the grip around the hand that Hermione had on her shoulder to walk without crumpling in the ground while Ivanov reached Dumbledore to talk about the matter at hand.

\- She will remain here.

If she had had the strength to laugh, even if only under her breath and between herself, Hermione would have done it, but breathing hurt, just as walking, and moving her eyeballs behind her lids, and thinking.

Everything hurt so much to make her want to scream, but pain was something she was accustomed to, something she could bear, no matter how deep or raw it was.

She could endure it, she would have endured it, her mind was sure of that, so her soul, but her body failed to follow them in their angry oath to the starless sky when suddenly her knees gave out, and not even poor, dear Winky could try to bear the weight of her crashing body with her bony one.

Crushing to the ground wasn't something Hermione was scared of, not when she had already crashed against other floors, not when she had already been yanked against broken windows, and smashed against whimpering corpses.

She was not scared to fall, to hurt, but when she felt them close around her thin wrist, when she recognized the magic, when she recognized the man, fear was what flashed in her eyes when she came face to face with who she had lost in the future and refounded now in the past.

A strange lump in his throat prevented the young wizard to give voice to the concern that would have made him ask if she was alright, but the more Remus Lupin looked in the big, dark eyes that were staring at him with so much pain and fear to make him cringing and crying in disbelief, the more the air failed to reach his lungs, to make him breathe.

\- Easy, dear.

When gentle, warm hands ran to support her from her right elbow, Hermione was relieved to meet the kind gaze that Madam Pomfrey turned with a severe frown on the man who was responsible for the child, the cruel wizard who now was looking at them from beyond the edge of his cloak of fur with indifference, tearing from the nurse a chain of angry words she began to scream in his face while Remus Lupin helped Hermione to reach the edge of his bed where Winky began to jump in agitation, crying and shaking so much to make the whole bed shudder.

\- Is Mistress alright? What does it hurt? Where? How? What can Winky do? Tell Winky what Winky can do!

If her hands had not reached the trembling fingers in time, Hermione knew that Winky would have tried to scratch her face until tearing flesh and spilling blood, but Winky's fingers were interlaced with her own, her eyes were focused on her face, and it was for the fresh tears in her eyes that Hermione hugged the trembling elf with so much force to break her bones.

\- You should be ashamed of yourself! She is a child!

Madam Pomfrey's words echoed in the infirmary like the loud cry of an enraged, betrayed mother, but Remus let his sensitive ears focus on the pitiful whimpering of the house-elf who the wounded girl was hugging for dear life, hiding beneath the wild mane of curls the eyes that were still haunting his mind.

A grimace crumpled his face while his hands froze in the air when, in trying to reach the small shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze, he noticed that there was nothing he could reach without making her scream, nothing to touch without making her flinch in pain.

There was not even an inch of skin for him to touch, to brush, even her face was covered in bandages, and he wanted to cry, and to whine, and to howl, because she was so small, there, on the narrow bed, so small, so wounded and so alone that he wanted to hide her in the shadow of his arms while her Headmaster returned to look forwards as if it did not matter, as if she did not matter.

\- She will remain here.

\- Of course, she will remain here! – snapped the witch with her voice hoarse for the scream she was throwing at him, taking the liberty to show him the exit of her infirmary with all the disgust she could afford before returning to the bed where the poor child was trembling probably in fear.

The door closed behind Ivanov's back even before Madame Pomfrey could reach the girl on the bed, whispering soothing words Hermione listened to with a heavy heart, lulling Winky's panic and pain with gentle caress and soft words that, slowly, helped the elf to return calm, collected, they both have to.

\- You are safe.

Hermione wanted to laugh again but, that time, not in mirth, not in pleasure, but in pain, in rage, because she had heard those words before, just in the same place, just during the same time of need, but he had failed them, he had failed her, and she would not have given him the chance to disappoint her another time.

She had already decided not to say a word, not to confess, not to talk about it, that one was her secret to keep, her burden to take, and, unlike him, she would have protected them as she had promised on the tombstones of the friends she had buried one by one without magic, but with her bare hands.

\- I would like to attend the lessons.

\- Of course, dear, of course, you will, you will be happy here, Hogwarts is the safest place where to be.

Again, she wanted to laugh in their face for such a ridiculous, ridiculous claim, but Hermione needed to stay calm, to clear her mind, there were many things she has to do, and the sooner, the better.

\- Just give yourself the time to heal, and then…

\- I would like to start tomorrow.

She could almost feel the weight of the concerned frown that fell on Madam Pomfrey's brow at her words, but time was something she could not lose, something she did not have.

Every second was precious for her, every moment a chance to get lost in the tangle of magic that was calling to her like a siren on the shore.

No. She did not have time.

\- It will help me recover faster. Normality could help me heal.

How many times had she played that scene in her mind? How many times she had seen Madame Pomfrey pulling her lips in a hard line while Dumbledore reached her bed to look in her eyes in search of the truth, her will to continue, to keep on going on, a desire she showed him with the challenging raising of her chin, asking something he owed her.

\- You have to be sorted.

\- Do it. Here. Now. _I am ready._

She had to seem a capricious child with her chin up, her flashing eyes, her shoulder straight and no trembling in her voice, but she knew what do to, what to ask, and when the Headmaster placed on her head the sorting hat between the upset look of Madam Pomfrey and the concerned gaze of Remus Lupin, Hermione knew already what she would have asked the hat to cry.

_\- Slytherin!_

The hat screamed what she had asked him to scream, what she had wanted to hear, but when she looked in front of her, the horror she saw flashing in Remus Lupin's eyes made her lower her gaze and strengthening the grip on the fold of the hat she had ripped from her head in a rush while Madam Pomfrey begged the Headmaster to retry, his eyes an enemy she would have fought another day, but not now.

Now she was tired. Now she would have rested. She had done what she had to do.

The first step towards a better future, she had just taken it.

Therefore she would have rested, _for now._

No one paid attention to the slow and stiff moves with which Hermione pulled out the blanket of the bed to curl with Winky pressed on her chest beneath the fabric, closing her eyes and counting her breathe to control the magic, to be grounded in the reality, to stay whole and not to fade, while the world around her kept on running and the hurried steps of Remus Lupin thundered in the castle's aisles like the coughing of an incoming storm.

His breath was ragged, his chest burned, and upon reaching the portrait of the Fat lady he had no voice to use to say the password, only enough strength to beat both his fist against the entry, tearing a startled cry from the portrait before the hissing sound of the opening of Gryffondr's tower made his eyes flash and his throat close with a name he was too weak to call.

When James's warm hands pulled him inside, when he felt his hazel eyes roaming on his face in concern and fear, Remus had not the time to collect his raging thoughts and trembling words that something moved in the dark corner of the common room, a long, tall form that threw a shadow larger and deeper than the one of the Whomping Willow in advancing while a pair of cold hands reached his elbow, bringing his tired form in front of the raging chimney where Lupin let himself fall under the concerned gaze of his friends.

\- What happened?

\- I…

\- Why are you here? You should be in the infirmary! Look at you! You are trembling for the cold!

Silver and hazel danced in front of his gaze, distracting his thoughts from what he had to say, from what they had to do, while Sirius's cold hand brought his weak body closer to the fire despite his protest.

\- Warm your chilly bones or I will throw you in the fire myself!

Remus knew how much concern was hidden in the hissed words, how much worry was clouded in the darkness that danced in Sirius's eyes, the cut on his cheek and his split lips the proofs of how much he cared, how much a good friend he was, just like James who was panicking with one hand sunk in his hair and the other that twitched nervously around his wand, showing the deep scratch under his right wrist and the sign of claws close to the temple.

They were worried, they were scared just like him, for him, but, unlike them, Remus Lupin knew well who was the enemy to fight that time, what was the danger to face, and when a pale face flashed in his mind like the moon of a starless sky the darkness of the night was trying to eat, it was with a tremulous breath that he collected himself, gathering from his lungs enough air for him to return to breathe.

To speak.

_\- They are going to kill her._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* **They are speaking in Russian**

Truth to be told, I have always thought that Hermione would have been the most powerful witch of her time. She was smart, clever, bright, and she loved knowledge, so I see her as a pillar of strength able to overcome anything, of course, we are talking about war, and war changes peoples, just as it had changed Hermione. I will explain more the past and what had made her act as she did, meanwhile, thank you for reading and reviewing the story, i will be glad to know your opinions on the story so far. English is not my native language, so I apologize for my mistakes.

For those who are still uncertain, this is a Sirius x Hermione fanfiction.

Until the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: This chapter will contain scenes of violence. You have been warned, the rating is high for a reason, we are talking of war, so if you are too sensible I do not advise you to scroll down. Good reading for those who chose to continue instead.**

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Good first impressions had never been her forte.

Ronald's snappish voice and his angry words during their first year were still an echo able to escape, from time to time, from the sealed coffer of the memories in her mind, a snake that had her nightmares as scales and weaved, poisonous curses as a tongue, a hissing little thing able to crawl in the dark corners of her head, waiting to bite her whenever insecurities returned to make her waver, to make her miss the steps, but there was no hesitancy in her stride when she reached the Head of her House, the copy of Hogwarts: A History a reassuring pressure against her chest while the wizard introduced her with a pompous fluttering of his fingers to the long table of scowling faces she did not deign of a look, not when she already knew what she would have met in raising her face from her book.

Haughty looks.

Disgusted glances.

Rumbling hisses she could hear vibrating in their throat like the shaking tail of an angry rattlesnake.

\- You can sit wherever you like, dear. You are welcome here.

The corner of her lips turned up in a half-smile when Slugorn's voice succeded in reaching her wandering mind, breaking the surface of the sea above which Hermione had mentally pushed the whispering in entering the Great Hall, drowning in an abyss where only what she wanted to hear could sink.

Not that she had wanted to hear Slugorn's prissy words, but the sarcasm that had filled her eyes at his words had taken the form of a heavy rock that had dragged down with it his voice in her mind, a foolish, little thing she discharged with a weak shrugging of her shoulders before taking a seat, pretending to care about what her Head of the House was rattling off in a high voice, so to be heard from the students who would have seen how attentive he was towards his pupils.

_How caring._

\- Vanity is the Prefect, she will take care of you, dear.

Emma.

Emma Vanity.

Her mind provided to add the name Slughorn had foolishly decided to discard as a useless notion while the wizard changed abruptly topic, throwing himself in an accurate description of the dungeon where she would have been and the prestigious club to which, if she had proved worthy, she could have been even invited, something she did not need to know, something that would not have helped her in her fall from grace.

Pieces of Advice.

Wise words.

_Some kind of warnings. ___

__Slughorn could have given her many hints on who not to trust, on what not to say, on where not to go, if she did not want to end dead in some abandoned room of the Castle, but he had failed her, he had failed just as she had known that he would have failed, yet, Hermione did not find satisfaction in being right, she felt disappointed, she felt angry, she felt betrayed again by someone she had trusted with her life._ _

___Just like him._ _ _

__Just like Dumbledore had done before, underestimating the entity of the danger, turning a blind eye to what could kill, if given a chance, and now, now Slughorn was offering her head on a silver plate with kind words and a reassuring smile, failing to understand, to see that behind the pretty faces, behind the tidy robes and stylish hairs there were no children, no young boys, but monsters, rabid dogs ready to rip off from her bones until the last piece of flesh at the first sign of weakness._ _

__Ignorance and superficiality would have been their doom, the reason of their fall, the cause behind their defeat in the war, because it was for the ignorance of Dumbledore that she was there, it was for the superficiality of Armando Dippet that they had a Dark Wizard on the run, it was ignorance what she had tried to fight for all her life, the reason why she had had to intervene, _to act on her own_ , to do what no one had wanted to do, tearing off from the roots the poisonous plant before it could become a tree so dark and so big to eat in the dark shadow of his branches all the flowers beneath._ _

__She would have trusted _no one.__ _

__She would have talked to _no one.__ _

__She was on her own, Winky her only ally in that time, in that world._ _

__The only one who could understand, the only one she could trust._ _

__No Dumbledore._ _

__Not the Marauders._ _

___No one if not herself._ _ _

__\- She had to be terrified._ _

__The fork sunk with too much force in the poor chicken leg when the concerned voice reached his ears, the potato the next target of the metal teeth his fingers pressed so hard on the plate to make it snipe in two, while people around him kept on talking about something he did not give a shit about._ _

__\- I heard that she had been assaulted with her parent from death eater!_ _

__- _Oh my god!__ _

__\- Where are they now?_ _

__\- They are dead! People said that they had been tortured in front of her eyes before the dark wizards could tear them apart!_ _

__- _Poor thing!__ _

__\- She is completely covered in bandages!_ _

__\- Savages! How could they have done something so horrible? Look at her, she is so small to fit in the broom's closet!_ _

__- _Horrible!__ _

__\- I can't think about it! The Slytherin will eat her alive!_ _

__\- We have to tell Dumbledore!_ _

__\- Or McGonagall!_ _

__- _Or you should just shut the fuck up!__ _

__The clattering of cutlery followed the angry hiss Sirius Black had just spat with so much loathing to bring to tears some of the first years before the Gryffindor could throw in the air his hands in outrage._ _

__- _Merlin's hairy balls!_ Why are you so fucking _obsessed_ with her! No one cares about her! She is probably a crazy kid who loves to cut herself who had suddenly decided to try the knife on her parents too!_ _

__A heavy, astonished silence followed the cruel words Sirius Black did not try to take back, not even when Lily Evans's piercing green eyes demanded from his an apology, but he was not James, and the pretty girl could look at him all she wanted, he would not have apologized, he was not the one who longed for her constant approval._ _

__\- You are abhorrent!_ _

__The table trembled a little after the punch the young wizard had just thrown against the wood to mimic the clapping of hands, so to show his appreciation for the _complimen_ while winking at the fuming Prefet with a derisive smile._ _

__\- Ten points to Gryffindor for the peculiar choice of vocabulary! Did you buy a new book about the most boring words no one wants to know or it is just me who inspires you, Lily flower?_ _

__\- Sirius._ _

__- _James.__ _

__People returned to eat eagerly to have something else to look at instead of the angry exchanges of looks between the two Gryffindors, while Lily Evans kept on boring imaginary holes in the face of the tall wizard who soon returned to growl angrily when even Remus began to look at him with irritation._ _

__\- I am disappointed, Sirius._ _

__The corner of his lips twitched dangerously when Remus's hurt tone made him greet his teeth in rage, all because of the _poor_ girl who had fallen from the ceiling of the Great Hall with a carbonized body to her side and a house-elf in her arms._ _

__Why people focused so much on the girl's bloodied state instead of the circumstance of her arrival was ridiculous._ _

__The old fool could say what he wanted, they could feel sorry for her all they wanted, but there was something wrong about it, _about her.__ _

__Something people did not seem able to understand, _too see_ , except him._ _

__\- Yours are terrible words._ _

__\- Call me mean and cruel how many times you want, Moony, but there is something wrong with that girl._ _

__\- Hermione – Remus corrected him with an edge in his voice while Sirius turned his eyes in slits so narrow to turn the silver of his eyes in toxic mercury able to melt to the bones._ _

__- _I don't fucking care.__ _

__\- You should care._ _

__The lazy tilting of his head and the slow turning of his neck brought his annoyed look on the many faces lined up on the Ravenclaw table, a chuckle to escape his lips when the fifth years blushed under the weight of his gaze before his eyes found the one who had just spoken to him with a levelled tone, a tone for which he would have snapped, but when he met silver eyes, when he recognized the girl who was looking at him instead of the imaginary things she said to see above their head all the time, a grimace replaced the derisive smile while a vague sense of anxiety made him shift his gaze somewhere else._ _

__Pandora had always made him feel uncomfortable, _stupid_ , as if she knew something that he didn't, laughing behind her eyes for his ignorance._ _

__An uncovered nerve, that was how the Prefect of Ravenclaw made him feel._ _

__Her eyes were strange, silver, almost white, always lost on something else, on something no one of them could see, sometimes, strange creatures with odd names, or lost spirits without a face, or dark shadows she believed to see behind their back all the time, so it was natural for him to feel like that, _to feel creeped out.__ _

__Pandora was a strange girl, an airhead who, since her first year, had pretended from both her teachers and her schoolmates to be addressed with the surname of the man she had told everyone she would have married in the future, a poor bloke who was odd just like her._ _

__Because everyone knew Xenophilius Lovegood._ _

__Everyone knew his magazine._ _

__Everyone knew that _he had lost it_ a long time ago, so, demanding to be called with the family name of a man Pandora had never seen in her life showed how much how a loon she was too._ _

__\- Why?_ _

__The question had been made with a lazy tone and a smirk for which he would have been proud of himself despite the anxiety that made his fingers twitch if Pandora's eyes had not become whiter, deeper, _creeper.__ _

__- _We owe her more than what we would ever be able to give her in return.__ _

__The hall stilled as if a bunch of Dementors had scared the shit out of everyone when Pandora's eerie voice echoed as if she had just cast upon herself a _sonorous_ , _as if she had just revealed a fucking prophecy.__ _

___Bullshit_ Sirius cursed under his breath, strengthening his hold on the table that rattled when his fingers tried to make the wood snap in two under the hard pressure of his fingertips._ _

__\- Well, here a piece of news for you, _love_._ _

__People returned to breathe when his voice broke the spell they had been under for a moment, some returned even to eat, to pretend nothing, while Sirius Black, unlike them, tried to control the shaking of his bones and the rattling of the teeth the wizard bared to the stolid Ravenclaw like a rabid dog._ _

__\- There is a reason _why_ people are sorted in Slytherin, there is a reason why _she_ had been sorted in that den of vipers, so there is no reason for me to care about her. She could go kill herself the moment I turn my gaze, for what I care, because I don't give a shit. _Because I don't own anything to anyone.__ _

__The smile that had pulled his lips wasn't pretty, a sharp line that would have cut the skin and spilt blood if someone had tried to touch it with their fingertips, but Pandora seemed unfazed by it, her imperturbable gaze a warning Sirius disregard with a growl, returning to watch the people sat close to him with irritation._ _

__\- Leave me the hell alone Evans! Go annoy someone else with your hero mania!_ _

__The flaring of her nostrils was what Lily Evans allowed herself to give him before her hands pushed her away from the table and her legs brought her closer to the Slytherin's table despite the warning._ _

__\- Wait for me!_ _

__James ran behind the Prefect even before Sirius could snap at him, even before he could hiss him to stay at the table Sirius refused to leave, his eyes fixed angrily on the chaos on his plate with what Moon would have called a childish sulk, but when even Remus and a reluctant Pettigrew followed Evan in her useless attempt to save someone who did not need to be saved, it was with an angry hiss that he pushed himself up, marching angrily towards the girl he seemed the only one to not give a shit about._ _

__\- Hermione!_ _

__Despite the loud chattering of the hall, Hermione had heard the call clear and loud, she had even recognized the voice, but she refused to turn, pretending to not have heard him, her eyes focused on the tall, blonde girl who was escorting her while the other Slytherins were moving around her like the swirling of dark swarm of ravenous beasts that were waiting for her to be alone to attack._ _

__\- Hermione!_ _

__A sigh escaped her lips when she heard Remus's panicked cry above the chattering, but even that time she pretended to not have heard him, walking towards the entry with the hope that he would have left her alone._ _

__Her interactions with other people would have been equal to zero, that was her golden rule._ _

__No more than curt nods, short words, the bare minimum for her to not be rude but to let her do what she must, and becoming friend with the Maradeus was something she refused to do, something she had not even considered to do._ _

__The world was her doll's house, the students, puppets to move where she wanted them to move to achieve what she had to achieve. Nothing was left to the case. _Nothing happened by chance.__ _

__Everything she did, everything she said was already _tested_ , _already decided_._ _

__She did not act on instinct, _she did not improvise_ , so when Hermione felt the warmth of his fingers trying to reach her arm, it was with a frown that she twirled on her heels, coming face to face with a startled Remus who retracted on instinct while Vanity stopped too and the swarm froze in a ring that would not have let her slip away._ _

___Doll._ _ _

__The word flashed in his mind even before Sirius could let his eyes drink fully the graceful features of her face, searching for angry eyes, stiff cheeks, something able to sustain his claim on the wickedness in her,_ _

__but despite the growing anger to make him seethe, he could find _nothing_ wrong about her._ _

__The eyes he had imagined thin and pale, and cold as the sharp splinter of a broken window were instead dark, warm, and impossibly soft, a softness that he could almost touch when her eyes fell on James, widening just enough to make him see a tinge of gold before she glanced away, looking curiously to his clenched hands._ _

__The bandages followed the slow lifting of the thin lips she turned in a mild smile when she left alone the hands closed in fits on his side to look straight in his eyes with something he could identify but tried not to, because the understanding in her soft eyes was fake, _it had to be fake.__ _

__She was trying to fool him, she was trying to fool all of them with her pretty face and soft eyes, and it did not matter how the mane of wild curls embraced her slim form like the sky at dawn, a comparison that made him want to puke for the stupid slip of his foolish mind._ _

__It did not matter how everything in her screamed kindness and softness, he would not have been fooled by her._ _

__\- Are you alright?_ _

__Hermione's eyes flew on the concerned face of the mother Harry had never met like the gentle flapping of a bird's wings, framing the pretty face of the lovely young woman who was looking at her with his eyes, a colour that made tears sting in her eyes before Hermione blinked a couple of time before recomposing herself._ _

__Being emotional would have done no good, and despite her efforts, it would have been impossible for her to be so close to them without becoming prey of the grief and the raw pain she had chained in her heart, behind a sealed door._ _

__No, it would have been impossible not to be affected by them, and she _refused_ to put herself under such emotional stress, to surpass the threshold of her pain on a whim, she knew her limits, _she knew the rules_ , and when she turned after a curt nod and a small smile, it was irritation what flashed in her eyes when Remus's Lupin prevented her to move._ _

__\- Do you like books?_ _

__He was stalling._ _

__Everyone knew that, _everyone could see that_ , but despite his good deed, despite his good intentions, Hermione found his stalling annoying._ _

__She had no time for that, she had no time to lose, to talk about books, to chat, to make friends, she had not come there for that, she had come with a purpose, _with a plan_ , and she would not have made changes for no one._ _

___No one._ _ _

__\- Yes._ _

__A growl followed the clipped voice that had just whipped the air like a slap in the face, a blow Sirius took without flinching as others did, because he refused to allow the girl to play with his emotions, he refused to felt pity for her, he refused to be sorry for her, the witch deserved probably what was going to happen to her anyway._ _

__\- I will take of her._ _

__Vanity's voice had always been a wonder among them._ _

__A low rumbling that matched horribly the almost elvish and delicate features of her face and the lithe line of her long and tall body._ _

__Hers was the voice of a man, deep, low, a voice that during Quidditch's matches could transform in the roar of a troll able to make all shake on their brooms when she began to scream at her companion to move, to be faster, to be smarter, a voice she rarely used outside the playing field._ _

__Emma Vanity did not like to speak._ _

__She did like to talk about the things she loved, about her hobbies, about her emotions, if she had any, or about girly things, she did not like to do anything except watching the world with indifference from above her pointy nose._ _

__She was colder than a stone, quieter than a tomb, but despite her arrogance, she did not seem so obsessed with blood purity like her other companions._ _

__That did not mean that she hugged people on the road or kissed children in their strollers, it was only that she did not hate muggle or muggle-born so much._ _

__For the love of clarity, she did not like anyone, she simply tolerated them, all of them, Slytherin included._ _

__\- Yes, we will take good care of our new companion, you don't have to worry about _that_._ _

__If Pandora's eerie voice had been able to freeze them to the bones, the dark chuckle that followed Barty Crouch's sweet words had the power to blow away from Sirus's eyes any trace of hostility while who had remained behind to listen stiffened as if the Slytherin had just used a _Pietrificus totalus_ on all the hall._ _

__\- Do you have your wand with you?_ _

__When Vanity's hard voice reached her ears, Hermione did not try to look back to reassure the students she could hear keeping their breath in fear, she did not try to dampen the tension she could feel in the air, to soothe the concern she could imagine in their eyes, she did not try to improve the mood with a lie she would not have used even to pretend, at least, that it was alright, that it would have been fine, that she would not have been found dead in some corner the next day._ _

__\- I do not. I lost it during the flight._ _

__The way Vanity's long fingers ran under her robes to reach for her wand was fascinating, _and predictable_ , just as were predictable the gasps in the air, the loud drumming of panic in their chest, the stiffening of the muscles of who wanted to reach out for her but could not, allowing her the chance to slip away from them all with Emma Vanity on her heels and the swarm a dark shadow that fell on her form like a cloak of death beneath which Sirius Black's eyes could not follow._ _

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__\- Go to your rooms._ _

__The crowds of teenagers who had just entered the common room dispersed as quickly as the flight of terrified deers when the cold voice snapped in the air like the shot of a gun, the crackly of the fire just burst in the huge chimney the only sound to echo in the now vacant room._ _

__Yet, Hermione could still feel it, Vanity's cold presence to her side, not so close to touch her, but not even so far to prevent a Protego to shield her too._ _

__\- You too, Vanity. Go to your room._ _

__\- I will not._ _

__A heavy silence followed the curt sentence, but still, the crackling of the fire was the only sound to be heard before a bored voice returned to whip the air after the annoyed clicking of Crouch's tongue._ _

__\- You do not have to worry, Vanity, our Malfoy here had become _really_ good on scraping away the blood from the carpet. No need to fuss over it. We all know how much an order's maniac you are. So go to bed._ _

__\- I will not._ _

__\- I am getting angry, _Vanity.__ _

__\- And I am getting pissed, _Crouch.__ _

__Such bravery was uncommon, almost impossible for a Slytherin, but Hermione _knew_ that it wasn't bravery what made Vanity act like that._ _

__She wasn't so surprised, _she wasn't impressed_ , because she had already known that despite her House, Emma Vanity was an atypical witch, a pureblood with high standards for herself but with little patience with what she considered pointless, and bullying someone weaker than her was a pointless thing, a waste of time and energy, a show of stupidity, something she could not forgive, too sharp and too intelligent to let ignorance win in her own House, _in her presence_._ _

__\- Is there where you stand?_ _

__There was an accusation in Crouch's voice, a curse at the end of his wand and insanity in the depth of his gaze, but when Vanity moved, it was not towards the young wizard, it was not in her defence, but it was toward the passage behind which she vanished quickly with the promise to return with Slughorn _and_ Dumbledore, a threat Crouch was not able to disregard, not with the future of his stay at Hogwarts at stake._ _

__\- It seems that we are in an impasse._ _

__Her voice had been a feeble puff of air she had released without thinking, while her eyes began to wander freely on her surrounding and her feet brought her here and there in the room, her attention focused on the dark pieces of furniture that made the common room smaller than it was in reality rather than on the students she could hear hissing at her back, shifting on their feet like snakes ready to bite, to tear flesh and to spill blood, _outraged_ , probably, by the little attention a _dirty mudblood_ like her was paying to them, to their anger, to their hatred, to their violence, but it was nothing new, nothing she had not already seen on other's faces, heard in other's mouths, _nothing to be scared of.__ _

__There were worse things than a couple of teens with homicidal delusions and mental instability, she had fought madmen and killers, she had fought monsters and demons, she had fought a war, _she had survived genocide_ , she was not scared of them, she wasn't even impressed, not of what they were saying to her, not of what they could do to her, very little, if she wanted to be honest with herself, but Hermione wasn't so cruel and petty to deprive them the security to be the ones who had the knife on the handle side._ _

__A pity, really, that she had already her blade planted in each one of their chests._ _

___In each one of their throbbing hearts._ _ _

__Suddenly, the steep stairs hidden behind a heavy curtain attracted her wandering gaze, a particular on which her eyes focused while she reached the first step, a curious glint in her eyes, the first true emotion she had felt since she had arrived in the past._ _

__She had never seen Slyterin's bedrooms._ _

__The common room, the dungeon she knew, but not their bedrooms._ _

__She knew Hogwarts as she knew her own body, every single niches, every single room, passage, secret door, but she had never had any reason to discover where Slytherin laid at night, she had never been interested, she had never cared, until now. Now she was curious about it, about how they were._ _

__Was there a huge bed with silk sheets as she imagined?_ _

__Did they have a chimney?_ _

__And a bathoorm? If yes, how huge?_ _

__Did they have enough shelves for her books? Or-_ _

__The crackling of popcorn filled her ears as soon as a scream of pain pierced the air like the shrilling cry of a baby, but there was no child around to whine, there were no popcorns to see jumping in a frying pan, only a young dark wizard who had just crumpled to the floor with fresh tears in his eyes and the bones of his right arm twisted to right and the left as if the radius, the ulna and the humerus of his arm had decided suddenly to bend to the opposite side of where they usually were located, leaving him with protruding broken bones bent under his skin in a wrong angle that seemed to hurt._ _

___A lot._ _ _

__There it was, the sound of popcorns._ _

__\- What-_ _

__\- He fell._ _

__She had not meant to be rude, for her words to be harsh, for her eyes to be dark, but the reactions to her flat statement were as if that had been the case, excessive, in her opinion._ _

__There was no reason to point the wands at her like that._ _

__There was no reason to draw back so fast or for their curses to hiss in the air so loudly, yet, they were looking at her as if she was the monster there, as if she was the one to be cursed and damned, not the young wizard on whom Hermione brought back her flat gaze while the curses vanished as if they had never been cast in thin air._ _

__\- You fell._ _

__\- You are a whore._ _

__A frown creased her brow when she heard the taunt, Crouch's face so pale to rival the snow._ _

__\- You are being rude when it is obviously unnecessary._ _

__\- You are the unnecessary one. You dirty mud-_ _

__The popcorn returned to crack, the baby returned to whine, and when Hermione saw Barty's eyes rolling back in his head for the pain of the snapping of the bones of his other arm, silence followed the thud with which the wizard passed out on the floor with his arms angled in a disturbing and grotesque arc to the side of his head._ _

__\- He fell again._ _

__No one dared to speak, no one dared to move, _to breathe_ , and when her eyes returned on them, the delicate line of her raised eyebrow became evident even beneath the bandages._ _

__\- Don't look at me like that, children. I did not bite. _For now_._ _

__The horrified looks on their faces made her want to laugh, but she had no time for that, she was already back on her roadmap, after all, she had not expected to lose time in admiring the stairs in the dungeon._ _

__\- Can you all go to your rooms, please? Except you two._ _

__Pointing was rude, but Hermione could not expect for them to know who she was referring to, who, between the six of them should have remained with her._ _

__Yet, no one seemed inclined to move or to go, even if she had said please, even if she had tried to be polite, to be reasonable, but she had already known that, she had already seen it in her head, and when Avery, Lucius Malfoy, Evan Rosier and Mulciber II flew with panicked screams behind the doors that closed with a loud thud in front of their faces, it was on Regulus Black and Severus Snape that her eyes focused. _Finally.__ _

__\- We should sit. Vanity would be here at minutes. We have not so much time._ _

__Hermione reached the armchair closer to the fire with a smile, frowning a little when the fire did not warm her as she had thought. It was no mystery why Draco Malfoy had always been so cranky in the morning._ _

___She was freezing there._ _ _

__A wool blanket fell on her knees when she found the right angle against the armchair, cursing whoever had decided to choose leather armchairs down there, elegant, yes, but cold, too cold for her taste, but her irritation for the weather turned in annoyance when she noticed that no one of the two wizards had listened to her propose, forcing her to twist angrily her wrist and to click her tongue._ _

__- _For Heaven's sake.__ _

__The screeching of chairs and the gasps of surprise followed the annoyed voice that Hermione tried to free of the irritation that still flashed in her eyes, but it seemed that Slytherin did not know manner, the clattering of their wands on the floor a sound Hermione would have preferred not to hear, to cause, just as she would have preferred not to chain the wizards to the chairs to make them listen to her, but alas, she had to do what she must._ _

__\- Antagonizing me will not improve your positions._ _

__\- And what will improve them?_ _

___Of course_ , he would have been the first to speak to her._ _

__Nature had never been kind to Severus Snape, not even in his teens._ _

__His cheekbones were still sharp, his skin still yellowish, his nose still crooked, his hair still greasy, but there were emotions in his eyes, anger she could see and _forgive_ , anger she would have tried to understand if she had had the time, but she had none, unfortunately._ _

__\- What will improve our positions?_ _

__\- Why are you even talking to her, Snape! – snapped Regulus Black when he recovered from the shock, staring at her in open disgust – she is just a dirty mud-_ _

__\- Don't-_ _

__Snape's angry hiss fell in deaf ears when the famous rage attack of the Black family took over the young boy, but even if Snape had not tried to hush him, the young boy would not have finished his sentence, not with the way the air seemed to rush out from his lungs under the pressure of an invisible air that was trying to snap his neck in two before he returned to breathe and to cough and Hermione tried to control her temper, _again_._ _

__\- I have no time for this. _Winky.__ _

__A loud pop followed the arrival of a tiny, angry house-elf who tried to hit Regulus with the bottle of firewhiskey she was drinking before a gentle hand could caress her bald head, attracting her gaze on the gentle features Hermione softened in seeing the rage in her big, brown eyes._ _

__\- He is not worth your anger, Winky._ _

__A curt nod was what the elf conceded her Mistress before her eyes returned on the two wizards who were looking at her with surprise._ _

__\- I did not know house-elf could growl like that._ _

__\- And Winky did not know that wizards could weep like babies, but here we are._ _

__An annoyed growl followed Winky's words, but the curt move of Hermione's wrist silenced whatever childish thing Regulus Black was going to hurl at her._ _

__\- We have no time for this, the cups, Winky, please._ _

__\- Yes, Mistress._ _

__In a blink of the eyes, the house-elf vanished and returned with two caps in her hands, handing them with a smile to the young witch who brushed two fingers against her temple in a fluid move that guided bright sparks of blue light to fill the cups._ _

__\- What are those?_ _

__\- Memories._ _

__Hermione had to admire Snape's knowledge and the steel in his voice._ _

__He was not scared of her. He was intimidated, yes, but not scared, not like Regulus Black, he was terrified of her, and it did not matter how cold he tried to be, how hard he tried to hide behind angry eyes and cruel words, she could see him trembling in there, just like the child he was, a child she could guide, she could bring on another path before it was too late._ _

__\- Correct. These are my memories. And you will drink it._ _

__\- Why?_ _

__For a moment, a slow blink of her eyes, Hermione felt lost, and tired, and hurt, because she had asked the same questions many and many times before, but she had never got an answer, a reason behind all that._ _

__Behind purebloods's hate._ _

__Behind people's cruelty._ _

__Behind the deaths she had tried to prevent, failing every time, _every day_._ _

__Behind the reason why the world had come to an end, the reason why she had remained the only one behind._ _

___Why?_ _ _

__Because words could not describe it._ _

__No, she confirmed to herself, her fingertips a gentle touch on the cut she could feel still burning under the bandages, there were no words to describe all the horror, and the pain, and the fear, and the unfairness _of that all_._ _

__Of all the deaths._ _

__Of all the tears._ _

__No words were good enough to explain._ _

__\- Drink._ _

__Hers had been a tired whisper, not soft, not gentle, only tired, defeated, while Winky reassured the young Black that he would have been already dead if her Mistress had wanted him dead, ordering him to behave and to drink while Hermione let her head fall and her eyes to close for a moment. _Just a moment_._ _

__\- Crouch? Open the damned door! Crouch!_ _

__The sound of fits and curses filled the silent room, voices Hermione listened to with one ear while the other waited for another sound, what she expected to hear, what she hoped, in her heart, to hear, because if they had been too lost for her to save, she would have killed them. _Both of them_._ _

__There was no reason for her to let them live, not if they were too lost already, _if she was too late_._ _

__\- Mister Crouch!_ _

__Slughorn's voice was sharp, for once, but it was the wrong time for him to show concern, to show worry, just as Dumbledore's presence was _unnecessary_ , they were both too late, _like always_._ _

__Gently, Hermione reached for the bandages on her face, beginning to loose the knots behind her head while Winky helped her to unbutton the cuffs to lift her sleeves above her elbow._ _

__\- Miss Granger? Are you alright?_ _

___Was she_ Hermione asked herself with a chuckle, knowing already the answer, while the sound of sobs began to fill the air, to give her hope, and the dark world in front of her eyes return to have colours._ _

__When Regulus Black began to choke, when he began to throw up, Hermione did not avert her gaze, she, however, lifted the spell to let the young boy fall to the ground to empty his stomach on the floor, but when he raised his gaze, when he tried to breathe, when his eyes fell on her, on the scars on her face, on the words carved on her arm, he returned to throw up with a desperate choking sound._ _

__\- This is what will happen, _what you will do_ , if you continue on this path. You can choose to change it, to change your fate. _It is not too late for that.__ _

__Ronald and some other Gryffindor had always wondered about the way Severus Snape would have cried, if he had had tears to shed, if he had had a heart to break for something, for someone, laughing about the absurd of the idea, _but he had them_._ _

__He had tears to shed, it was only that he did not let them fall from the corner of his eyes._ _

__He had a heart to break, it was only that he suppressed the pain under his skin, behind the tight line of his lips, beyond the dark pupils she could feel on her arm, and then on her face, and again on her arm before eyelids could fall upon his eyes, saving him from the view of something Hermione saw every day in the mirror, every night in her dreams, but despite what she had shown them, the people in her head had faces and names, unlike them, she could not escape the ghosts, nor could they, _not anymore_._ _

__\- You can choose to be better._ _

__When the entry of the common room burst open, when an enraged Vanity and a dishevelled Slughorn threw a _lumos_ in the dark room, what they expected to find was broken furniture, torn curtain, shattered glasses and the broken body of a bloodied Miss Granger on the floor, but the young woman was limping on the stairs that led to the girl's rooms as if nothing had happened, as if nothing was out of place._ _

__\- What happened here?_ _

__Regulus Black did not avert his gaze from the flame he was watching silently, not even when Dumbledore reached his form, not even when the Headmaster touched his shoulder to attract his attention._ _

__He did not look back, he did not turn his gaze, he kept on looking at the flame, on ignoring the world around him, on being silent. _Lost_._ _

__\- It's cold._ _

__A frown darkened Vanity's face when the monotone voice of Black made her fear for the worst, but the room was intact, the floor clean, the curtains in place, everything was still whole, everything except the broken gaze she saw reflected in the swaying flames before she threw an _incendio_ in the chimney to make the flames stronger, _to keep warm.__ _

__\- It's still cold._ _

__\- What happened here?_ _

__When Vanity reached the tense back of the Head of her house, when she went around Slughorn, surprise flashed in her eyes when she found Barty Crouch, pale as a ghost, with his arms twisted horribly to the side at the end of the stairs._ _

__\- What...What-_ _

__\- He fell._ _

__Wizard and witch turned on their heels when Severus Snape's voice attracted their gaze on the side of the room where it was still too dark to have a proper look, to see his face, the look in his eyes as he explained the reason why one of his schoolmates was in that state._ _

__But even before Slughorn could rage, even before Vanity could try to discern from his voice the lie, Regulus returned to speak, his eyes now focused on the stairs where everyone turned to look, finding only darkness and silence._ _

__\- He fell._ _

__Emma Vanity saw it._ _

__The move behind the curtain, the shadow behind the pillar, she saw it, _she recognized her_ , but still, nothing left her mouth._ _

__She kept silent, she kept still, and when she met the eyes of her professor, when she felt Dumbledore's gaze on her, when she felt Severus's attention on her, she turned her eyes down, where she stared coldly at the form for which she felt no sympathy. **No loyalty.**_ _

___No pity._ _ _

__\- He fell._ _

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__\- Can I sit here?_ _

__A curt nod, and the screeching of the chair filled the silence Hermione did not try to break, not even when she felt those eyes on her, her attention focused on the transcription of the spell she obviously could not use without a wand while the other students around her tried to turn a rat in a crystal ball, yet, she did not have to look in one to know who had just sat beside her._ _

__She did not have to look to the side to know that red would have flashed in her gaze, the hair Lily Evans pushed behind her shoulder to throw a concerned look at the young witch with the bandaged face who, despite her worry, seemed alright, _unharmed_._ _

__\- Are you alright?_ _

__A low growl followed her soft question, but Sirius Black could growl all he wanted like a rabid dog, he could try to throw her his crystal ball in one of his fit of rage if he wanted, she would have tried to talk to the witch, she did not need his permission._ _

__\- Let him be, he is-_ _

__\- Rude? Snappish? Vain? You should stop me, you know, I fear the list is too long for me to finish within a day._ _

__Another growl followed Hermione's words, but she refused to look at Sirius and his outraged look._ _

__She was simply stating the truth._ _

__Draco Malfoy with black hair, that was what he was for her at the moment._ _

__A vain, childish, arrogant man who did not know the limit of his own stupidity._ _

__\- I like you._ _

__The praise seemed to work that time, to attract the gaze of the young witch on her, and when Lily had those dark eyes on her face she felt herself blush for the intensity of her look before something soft muffled the fire in her gaze._ _

__\- I like your eyes._ _

__\- Thanks._ _

__\- If you kiss each other now I will be the happiest man on the earth. _I swear_._ _

__James Potter's plea made some Gryffindor chuckling in the background while Severus Snape risked to lose the grip around the crystal ball that he had let go in shock before clutching it a little too harshly to his chest._ _

__\- How was your first time in the dungeon?_ _

__\- Fine, I guess, it was cold – Hermione began to tell with a flat voice, choosing to sigh sadly to attract the concerned gazes of the Gryffindors and the dark looks of the Slytherin, pity that Crouch and his gang could not be with them, the infirmary wasn't a happy place where to be, after all._ _

__\- What? What happened?_ _

__\- Can you keep a secret? – and she even made her voice tremble a little to appear scared, keeping her voice loud enough to be able to be heard by _everyone_ , McGonagall included._ _

__\- Of course, you can trust me._ _

__A soft smile touched her lips when she felt the truth behind Lily Evans's gentle voice, she was so much like him to make her cry, and maybe she should have cried, tears would have helped to make her story sadder._ _

___Touching._ _ _

__\- They had tried to hex me._ _

__Gasps filled the air while some girl began to cry softly in empathy and the Slytherin stiffened under the dark looks of the Gryffindor._ _

__\- They had tried to throw me from the stairs._ _

__- _Oh my God!__ _

__Hermione could almost imagine their eyes widen so much to become as huge as the crystal ball each of them had in front of their face._ _

__\- They tried to push me in the fire!_ _

__- _What?__ _

__This time it had been Remus Lupin's startled voice to make her smile, but even Sirius's astonished silence was a reason to raise a little more the corner of her lips while her curls fell around her form like a curtain, hiding the sniggering she would not have known how to conceal otherwise._ _

__\- But …where are the bruises? Did you conceal it? How…_ _

__Lily stuttering was interrupted by the abrupt way with which Hermione threw back her head, her eyes huge and a soft smile to lighten up her face._ _

__\- I said they had _tried_ , not that they had _succeeded_. Someone helped me._ _

__\- Who?_ _

__Sirius's biting bark did nothing to her smile or to the shining eyes Hermione focused on a crouched back she saw stiffening when Severus Snape felt her gaze on him._ _

__\- Him!_ _

__- _These are bullshit!__ _

__Hermione did not have to try so much to seem irritated when Sirius returned to speak, but by the way Remus Lupin was staring angrily at him and the way James Potter had just sigh in consternation, half of the Maradeus was on her side, expect Pettegrew, but he did not count, he soon would not have mattered at all, not after dying of a horrible, _horrible_ death she had already played in her mind a lot of times before._ _

__\- Are you calling me a liar?_ _

__- _I will call you a bitc-__ _

__- _Sirius!__ _

__- _Padfoot!__ _

__- _Black!__ _

__\- Him?_ _

__While people kept on calling the young Black from side to side in horror and anger, Hermione allowed herself to look down in hearing the small whisper, following the eyes Lily Evans kept on Severus's back with an intensity that _hurt_._ _

__\- He is a good guy, you know._ _

__Tight lips and a hard look was what Harry's mother showed her, but pride was something easy to put aside for the ones we loved, and deep down, Lily Evans still cared about Snape's friendship._ _

__\- He told me that I reminded him of a dear friend of his._ _

__This time her voice was really the voice of who was telling a secret, so low and soft to be heard only by the one we could trust, _who mattered_._ _

__\- They had called me mudblood, but he had refused to call me with that name, so they had attacked him._ _

__The harsh intake of breath made her go still, but despite the flash of hurt in Lily's eyes, Hermione decided to continue, her voice softer, kinder._ _

__\- He hexed them for that. He said-_ _

__\- What- Lily asked her, trembling from head to toe when Hermione hesitated a little, so to give her time to elaborate her feelings – What ... what did he say?_ _

__\- He said that he would not have made the same mistake twice, that if he could have, he would have turned back time to apologize to his friend, but unfortunately, she did not want to even talk to him._ _

__Ronald would have chocked with his food in his gaping mouth if he had seen her in that exact moment._ _

___Feeling sorry for Snape? Are you mad?_ _ _

__Mad, no, she was not mad, but sorry? _Yes_ , she felt sorry for Snape, for his horrible death, for his bravery, for the chance he had never had, a chance she was giving him to thank her professor for all the time he had protected Harry, the only one who had really tried to save them, _all of them.__ _

__When the lesson ended, people were still talking about it, staring at Severus Snape with a curious and different light in their eyes while Hermione reached the door with slow, calibrated steps, waiting for Snape to have his chance, for what she had made to happen, and when she saw Lily Evans raising from her seat with a determined look, when she saw her marching towards her potion professor, _when she began to talk with him_ , a real smile softened her lips before leaving._ _

__\- I am beginning to understand why you have been sorted in Slytherin._ _

__Vanity's voice reached her in the form of a sharp smile the Prefect offered her before turning towards the Great hall with a last, long look to her face, a hall Hermione was entering too before her eyes caught a movement to the side, and when she saw the towering form of a battered Malfoy and an angry Avery cornering a pale Regulus Black, she pushed her heels on the floor with a harsh clap to change direction, _to choose her next target.__ _

__James Potter pretended to throw up when Lily Evans passed close to him with Severus Snape on her side, but other than a dark look from the pretty Prefect and a nasty one from Snape, the duo kept on walking together, a little closer, while Remus Lupin reemerged from the class with an irritate Sirius Black in his wake._ _

__- _She did this._ Granger. She had done something to Evans. There is no reason for her to decide to talk to Snivellus so out of the blue._ _

__\- You are being ridiculous._ _

__\- You are the ridiculous ones! She is hiding something! I know it!- and to support his claim Sirius Black searched for the blasted girl among the crowd, but hurt soon flashed in his eyes when he did not prepare faster his heart to the view of Regulus's scowling face, yet, it was with a start that he noticed that, for once, his little brother did not seem ready to bite whoever was trying to go near him, he was…calm, composed, if not a little sad, especially when his eyes fell on the arm that Hermione Granger hid with a small smile behind her back, softening her gaze for something he could not understand._ _

__\- See? She is the face of true wickedness._ _

__James's mockery made his jaw tense before the Gryffindor bumped against his shoulder with a surprised gasp, turning with a startled gaze towards a surprised Pettigrew who did not know the reason behind the irritation of the other boy._ _

__- _The hell_ , Peter? Why did you push me?_ _

__\- Push you? What-_ _

__This time it was Remus the one who bumped against Sirius, but the Gryffindor was as strong and hard as a rock, and despite the weight of both of his friends, he did not budge, not even of a step, turning the same irritate gaze on the companion._ _

__\- This is not funny, Peter._ _

__- _I did nothing!__ _

__\- You did, you have just pushed Remus!_ _

__\- I did not._ _

__\- You did._ _

__\- Did not._ _

__\- Girls…please.._ _

__\- You-_ _

__- _Hermione!__ _

__Lily Evan's scream made many heads turn to her, even Sirius, who did not feel so forgiving towards James's flower turned, but when he saw the Prefect kneeling on the ground with a white face, when he saw his brother fidgeting and Severus Snape frowning, when he saw who they were looking at, it was suspicion what flashed in his eyes when he saw Hermione Granger forsaken on the floor like a broken doll, one of her hands brought to her chest._ _

__- _She is faking it!__ _

__\- Sirius!_ _

__\- Just look at her, _damn it!__ _

__And he did, they both did, but the more they looked at her, the paler they became, and when she began to spat blood, when Sirius followed the bandaged hand she had just brought to her mouth to wipe away the blood, smearing it on her cheeks like marks of war, it was then, just then, that he saw her look up with _arrogance.__ _

___It was just then that he saw her smile._ _ _

__\- Someone calls Madam Pomfrey!_ _

__\- Call the teachers!_ _

__- _Someone does something!__ _

__People were screaming, students were running, but Sirius Black kept on watching her, Hermione Granger, she and the blood on her face, she and the smile on her lips, she and her chin raised in challenge before he saw it reflexed in her eyes when she blinked, a shadow draped above the ceiling like the nest of an awful beast who had drops of blood as eyes and bones as teeth, a shadow she blinked away when staring became too much, when her knees began to yield under the weight of a body they were no longer able to bear, letting her fall to the floor with a low thud._ _

__- _Hermione!__ _

__When a pale James Potter collected from the floor Hermione Granger's small form, people began to whisper while Lily Evans followed the Gryffindor with Remus Lupin, Severus Snape and Regulus Black in their wake, but not Sirius, not Sirius Black._ _

__No. He did not follow, he did not look, his eyes fixed in the corner of the ceiling where he was waiting for the thing to move, to appear again, but nothing stirred, nothing bared his teeth at him, as if he had imagined it, as if he had begun to see things just like Pandora, but he had not, _he had not imagined anything.__ _

__Sirius Black reached the door of the Infirmary before it could close in front of his face, even before he could be left behind, his eyes fixed on the young woman his best friend was carrying to a worried Madam Pomfrey, his mind focused on one simple thing, one simple task, exposing Hermione Granger for who she really was._ _

__A liar._ _

___A threat._ _ _

__A dangerous thing as dark as were the demons she seemed to carry with her._ _

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__Here we are again! Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I really appreciate them! With the hope to know what you all think about this chapter, I leave you a good night!_ _


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